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Just a Pilgrim's Progress
(or, The Evolution of the Heroic Myth Perspective)

With his work on Preacher, Punisher, and Hitman, Garth Ennis has helped establish the antihero as the preeminent modern comic book protagonist, yet, in doing so, has almost guaranteed that readers would be slow to take a liking to his latest miniseries, Just a Pilgrim.

The antihero is not the antithesis of the hero -- rather, he/she usually hangs out more often than not in the "vs." of "good vs. evil." They don't hang their white, ten-gallon hat in the sheriff station as the archetype hero does, but they also don't hacksaw the legs off their enemies and roll the remaining torso, arms, and head in honey down an anthill (. . . unless it's absolutely necessary). And of course with Marvel Comics' urban vigilante, the Punisher, it's usually necessary. But, that doesn't make the antihero all bad, because they each have a purpose. Even if that purpose isn't as grand as saving the world, we don't care, because they're so damn likable.

The antihero is traditionally defined as a main character in a dramatic or narrative work, characterized by a lack of traditional heroic qualities, such as idealism or courage. This definition is fairly correct, in essence. But, more accurately, the antihero doesn't have to play by the same moral/social rules that the hero does. And that makes the task of creating a likable (read: cool) character a good bit easier.

With Just a Pilgrim, some readers said they were not convinced with the titular Pilgrim as an antihero -- that, by the miniseries conclusion, many viewed the Pilgrim as simply another villain, no different from his nemesis, Castenado. But this can't be the entire explanation for the dissatisfaction. Ennis has many times introduced readers to primaries whose characteristics identify more with villainy than with heroics, and yet they are still the delight of many fans. Cassidy, the Irish vampire and one-time best friend to Preacher's lead Jesse Custer, is an example. He contributed to the near-death of Custer, if not actively, then at least by negligence. Cassidy then proceeded to drug and sleep with Custer's girlfriend, Tulip, while more or less holding her hostage. Cassidy has a past steeped in this behavior. Yet, he is a fan favorite.

I don't think it's the Pilgrim's lack of antiheroic qualities that has readers confounded. I'd argue that the Pilgrim is confusing for longtime Ennis-readers because of what he's not -- he's not the antihero, not the villain, not even the anti-villain. Nope, it's much more simple than that: the Pilgrim is the hero.

In The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Joseph Campbell says, "the composite hero of the monomyth is a personage of exceptional gifts. Frequently…unrecognised [sic] or disdained. He and/or the world in which he finds himself suffer from a symbolic deficiency . . . in apocalyptic vision the physical and spiritual life of the whole earth can be represented as fallen, or on the point of falling, into ruin."

We have exactly that structure in the Pilgrim's world and journey. He finds himself disdained in a post-apocalyptic world where the seas have dried up and the land has definitely fallen into ruin. His exceptional gifts may not be readily recognizable to others (since he's a former cannibal and frequently kills without remorse), but external character perception doesn't exclude the case for Pilgrim as hero. The Pilgrim's devotion and faith are gifts exceptional to him.

To truly be set in a monomyth, Campbell says, the standard path of the mythological adventure of the hero must be a magnification of the formula represented in the rites of passage: separation-initiation-return. This concept is one that surfaces in many heroic myths -- perhaps most notably in the subtitle of John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress (which just happens to be the title Ennis gave the last issue of the series). Pilgrim's Progress begins: "Delivered under the similitude of a dream wherein is discovered the manner of his setting out, his dangerous journey, and safe arrival at the desired country." There's the heroic myth archetype: separation (setting out), initiation (dangerous journey), and return (safe arrival). I think Ennis had the archetype in mind (or, in the back of his mind) the entire time and intended the Pilgrim as hero.

Some say the modern age has been very hard on myths and heroes. That it has tended to drift away from the mythical hero. I don't think that's the case. It's not that we're hard on the hero; I think we're having a hard time identifying the hero. The perception of hero is the real variable now. From whose perspective do we accept the notion of hero? Campbell asserts the passage of the hero is fundamentally inward, "into depths where obscure resistances are overcome, and long lost, forgotten powers are revivified, to be made available for the transfiguration of the world." By definition, this can be the product only of internal struggle, so the only perspective relevant is that of the hero him-/herself.